


have you ever lived an impossible love

by YsaX64



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Parenthood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:21:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22275529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YsaX64/pseuds/YsaX64
Summary: Sometimes, happy accidents happen.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 8
Kudos: 103





	have you ever lived an impossible love

**Author's Note:**

> So I have no self-control. Yeah, I already accepted my fate. Have fun with this one, I sure did.

"You gave your mother quite the ordeal."

The newborn merely shifted in his sleep, blissfully unaware of his very  _ eventful _ birth. Hubert sighed, his shoulders slouching. The baby – his small chest rising and falling – slept on peacefully in his arms, resting his head on Hubert's bare chest. A sharp contrast to the screaming, bloody mess of a few hours prior.

But it was alright. Edelgard was tired – more than a day of labor was no small feat – and resting on her bed. The baby –  _ their  _ baby, he still couldn't believe it – was bundled in his own little blankets, fitting for the small child. It was all right.

Still, sitting on the chair beside Edelgard's bed, with their son in his arms as she slept with her back turned to him, Hubert couldn't feel more restless. Perhaps he'd had too much coffee; perhaps that was the reason why he'd been pacing until the baby's cry prompted him to take the boy in his arms. He would have bore a hole on the floor if not for it.

"You gave your father quite a scare too," he whispered, voice lowering. "I thought I was about to lose both of you."

Simply voicing his fear out loud was enough to make a shudder run up his spine. But it was alright. Edelgard was sleeping and so was their baby. Even then, Hubert couldn't help but spare a glance to his side.

Tucked safely, she was little more than a bump beneath the covers, the white top of her head the only visible part of her body. She looked so  _ small _ . That wasn't a word he used to describe her often, despite her having to crane her neck to meet his eyes every time. No, she seemed small in a much broader sense than stature.

Hubert bit his bottom lip, struggling to acknowledge how  _ frail _ she looked. It wasn't a word to be used to the Emperor he had seen ravaging the battlefield in a storm of rage. Still, the thought formed a lump in his throat.

He could protect her on the battlefield, in the shadows, in court. But there was nothing he could do against nature itself.

"Hmph."

A muffled noise came from his arms, enough for his eyes to dart back down. His son had woke up, shifting uncomfortably on his arms with small sounds. A sigh left Hubert's lips as he forced himself to relax his arms, letting the baby's head rest on the crook of his elbow.

"My apologies. It is most certainly not your fault," Hubert chuckled as his son settled in his arms. "I hope you will excuse my lack of skill in this. I have not had the opportunity to hold children your age, I'm afraid."

Hubert didn't quite know why he was mumbling so much to a newborn child. A very rational, reasonable part of him told him that there was no point. Still, when his son opened his eyes – green just like his and his father's and his grandfather's – half-lidded but still very much staring back at him, he couldn't help but continue.

"I did not have any little siblings to hold. Not for lack of my father's attempts, however," he let out a dry laugh. "That isn't exactly a happy subject to me most of the time, but I still find ironic that I have proven to be so virile as to have you so easily."

Of course, he wasn't being fair. Edelgard and Hubert had already had quite a few escapades together even during the five long years of war. At some point, he had become careless – although, with his son staring back at him with fuzzy brown hair and lazy green eyes, he wouldn't exchange it for anything – and so the circumstances had eventually aligned.

Of course, his son cared for none of it, kicking and fussing until he found a good position for himself. The baby yawned, blinking sleepily. Hubert couldn't help but smile a little.

"I suppose this must be a boring subject for you as well."

Sleep deprivation must have been getting to him, but he could swear that the baby just winked at him. Hubert let out a laugh, using his free hand to caress the patch of hair on top of the baby's head.

"You have no idea how much joy your mother felt when she saw you. After all the trouble you put us through, you were born a perfect little boy."

He wasn't normally this talkative, Hubert acknowledged with a certain detachment. Still, he didn't care, as his son's eyes would lazily draw back to him whenever he spoke. He scratched his chin, feeling the itch of facial hair that he very much disliked, but that the last few days didn't give him the time to properly trim.

"She was so tired already, but when she heard your first cry, Edelgard looked for you first and foremost. It was a touching sight to behold."

There was no aim in the words he muttered, but he felt compelled to talk anyway. 

"Yes, indeed," he slurred the words, eyes transfixed on the baby in his arms. "I can't blame her. I also was…"

He trailed off, his free hand trembling slightly. His eloquence failed him. The feelings overflowed his shriveled heart, leaving a dull ache in its place, but ended up lodged in his throat, choking and burning him. Too much to say, no words for it. A beat passed. His eyes tingled as he blinked rapidly. His vision blurred and his heart seemed turned to stone and set in flames all at the same time. Even his chest felt constricted, his ribcage all too tight around his lungs. 

Hubert let out a shuddering breath, regaining some of his composure. 

"I was moved as well," he finished, blurting out the words in a single breath. "Unspeakably so."

Perhaps Hubert would have kept muttering until the night turned into day, but his child certainly had other plans.

The boy started moving on his arms, fussing and making small noises that he couldn't quite identify. 

"What is it?" 

Hubert tilted his head to the side, furrowing his brows. It wasn't the baby who answered him.

"I presume he is hungry."

His eyes snapped back to his side. Edelgard had turned around, staring back at him, breathing heavily as if the mere effort to move around already exhausted her. She propped herself up with one elbow, wincing but still sparing him a small smile.

"Surprised?"

Hubert nodded, shifting the baby in his arms in a failed attempt to calm him down. Edelgard, in contrast, sat up with a groan that made him flinch. Despite the many bloody battles they had won, it was still a heart-wrenching sight to see her in pain.

"Now, don't monopolize our child," she chided, a tired smirk playing on her lips.

_ Oh, you fool _ . He nodded, pulling the blankets together and gently handing over the baby to her. Then, Hubert withdrew his hands, straightening his back in the chair. More out of the habit of keeping his distance than anything else, which made him frown. The underlying question –  _ why? –  _ remained in the back of his mind, but he refused to acknowledge it.

Still, if Edelgard noticed, she said nothing, paying more attention to the baby in her arms. She sat up with a grimace, letting her back rest on the pillows as she pulled down one of her shoulder straps. He couldn't help but flush a little at the sight.

Perhaps it was silly – they had already shared much more of their bodies than a glimpse of her breast. And yet he found it strangely intimate to be sitting there next to her as their son squirmed in her arms.

"Very well, no need to fuss," she cooed, pulling the baby closer.

Hubert averted his eyes to the ground, back straight in the chair. It was her moment. Of course, she caught on quickly.

"Hubert." Her tone was neutral, betraying no emotion. However, when he turned his head, feeling the tension in his neck, Hubert knew what emotion laid underneath.

It was easy to see in the slight tilt of her chin, the tension in her brows. Confusion. He did not dare to let his eyes wander from hers, sustaining her gaze. Until she spoke up.

"Come here."

It was softer than the touch of a feather, little beyond a whisper. Still, he heard it reverberating in his mind for a few moments before he nodded vigorously.

_ You fool.  _ She was with a child in her arms. He was the father. Edelgard needed him there, not as a servant but as a fellow companion. Of course. He could do it.

"As you wish," he muttered, getting up in a hurry.

Hubert shook his head, his heart racing as he sat down on the edge of her bed. He had prepared himself as if he were going to sleep alongside her that night. Of course, the Minister of the Imperial Household could never do so – he had walked around restless, feeling disconnected with the idea of going back to his own quarters but also unable to rest beside her. 

Even then, sitting down on her bed, eyes transfixed on the sheets, Hubert felt just as out of place. He could protect her, yes. That much was easy. He had years of practice, trial and error. Yet he wasn't useful for much more. When Hubert sat down alongside her, his inadequacy with matters of the heart became just that more clear to him.

Her finger hooked under his chin, turning his head to her. He did not resist – Hubert wouldn't dare to deny her. Her eyes were a clear, regal violet, staring back at him. Perhaps he looked even more haggard than usual. Sleep deprivation, excess of coffee, the constant stress.

How laughable. Gaunt cheeks hollowed. Pale skin stretching in sharp angles like a broken bird. Dark circles under his sunken eyes. If anyone else had dared to appear before Edelgard like that, he would have sneered, perhaps even dared to lecture them. Pitiful display. 

He barely noticed that she had closed the gap between them, placing a chaste kiss on his lips. It was quick, but enough to make his heart flutter with the contact, the tingling warmth of her lips leaving him desiring for more. 

"Closer."

Hubert could still feel her hot breath on his lips as she took just one second too long to pull back. 

He couldn't ever hope to deny her. 

Without much thinking, he pulled himself closer and she gladly took his offering, settling herself between his legs while pulling their child closer. Hubert froze for a moment, his tired brain unable to comprehend the scene unfolding before him. Her back resting against his chest, prompting him to lean back as well.

He inhaled, a refusal teetering on the tip of his tongue. And stayed there, hesitating. There wasn't a single rational part of his mind that could fathom why he wished to deny her. Even then, the urge to get up and excuse himself was tremendous. Only the warmth of her body and sheer curiosity kept him there.

Edelgard, ironically, seemed just as frozen as he was. Waiting. A beat passed. Neither of them said anything. There was no sound in the dark of the night. Until she broke the spell first, fully resting against his chest, sighing as her position allowed him to fully look upon their son –  _ their  _ small, perfect, little boy – in her arms, eager to feed on her breast. 

Whatever was left of his resolve shattered into pieces. He leaned back into the pillows and Edelgard followed suit, humming an approval. His arms hovered close to her for a moment before she nodded, prompting him to lace his arms around her waist. Intimate, oh so delightfully intimate.

"I never thought I would see the two of us like this," she mumbled, eyes fixated on the baby on her arms. "Well, I suppose it is the three of us now."

Edelgard rested her head on his shoulder, all the more reason for him to remember how small she was. And the baby, even smaller, tiny hands holding her breast in place. 

"I could say the same."

_ Although I'm glad for this, for all of this, for you, for our boy. _ The words stopped in his throat, stuck and choking him. Edelgard, unaware of his musings, nodded, fingers grazing the baby's small patch of hair –  _ brown  _ hair, a blessing for the two of them that Hubert could never take for granted.

"I admit that I didn't always believe it was going to be like this." Her voice was low as if the walls themselves had ears and she could tell no one but him. "I was afraid of many things."

She nuzzled closer to him; he could feel her back tensing. Edelgard didn't need to tell him her fears. Hubert already knew each and every single monster in her head, even if he was fully aware of his inability to vanquishing them the same way he did her flesh and bone enemies. A shiver ran up his spine, the looming threat of a headache hanging over his mind. 

"I felt the same," he whispered. "I've laid awake for far too long these last few nights."

She scoffed as his arms hugged her closer, his free hand caressing the top of their son's head. The baby chose that moment to let go, eyes gazing up to both of his parents. Hubert moved his hand up and a small hand caught his pinky. Edelgard turned her head, resting her forehead against his neck.

"I assume you didn't rest at all, did you?"

His lips curled up in a dry smile.

"What makes you think so?"

Avoiding the question. A poor defense, but a defense nevertheless. The boy, oblivious as he was, held on tight to his finger – barely able to hold him, such a small hand.

"You smell like coffee."

"I always smell like coffee."

"More than usual."

Part of him still felt the warmth of her words, of him having a "usual smell of coffee" for her. No use fighting it then. He gently pulled his finger away from his son's grip, patting his head.

"I suppose so," he acquiesced, eyes transfixed on his son. A baby. Blood of his blood. Her blood as well.

In a way, he'd never expected to have children. Hubert had barely thought about it – it was expected that the Vestra lineage would end alongside the Hresvelg lineage. Edelgard didn't plan on marrying and so he didn't as well. He could almost smile at the irony.

Edelgard's hand cupped his jaw, caressing the parody of a beard that had sprouted in the last few days.

"Peach fuzz," he murmured, shaking his head but allowing her fingers to caress him.

"You never liked letting your beard grow." Her tone took an amused lilt; he could hear the smirk in her words. "All the more proof that you haven't been taking care of yourself."

"True enough," he murmured vaguely, tempted to scratch his eyes. "True indeed."

They soon fell into a comfortable silence. Skin to skin contact like this was a rare luxury, one that Hubert didn't know he needed as much as he did. The thought of getting up was far and gone, with Edelgard leaning against him, their baby in her arms. What bliss.

His eyelids drifted shut. His hands hung limply as his head drooped forward. Part of him wanted to shake his head, slap his cheeks until he was up and going. A very small part of him that ultimately lost to the rest of him which very much relished the warmth of Edelgard's body and the light kisses she was peppering on his neck.

The last thing he heard was her voice, a smile playing on her tone.

"Looks like your father is dozing off."

* * *

Hubert didn't dream. Not often, at least. He had sharp ears and any suspicious sound was more than enough to wake him up in a normal situation. If he didn't have such qualities, assassins would have got the best of him long ago.

Still, when his eyes opened heavily and he witnessed as Edelgard set their baby – a baby boy, healthy and with  _ brown  _ hair – in the cradle, Hubert couldn't help but wonder if he was still dreaming. He rubbed his face and eyes, a poor attempt to waking up. 

It became very clear that he wasn't dreaming when Edelgard turned on her heels. Regal even in her nightgown, he couldn't help but notice, she raised an elegant eyebrow. He held her gaze, noticing how the violet of her eyes gleamed in the moonlight.

"Go back to sleep," she whispered softly, barely audible to his dulled senses. But enough to snap him out of his stupor. 

Hubert averted his eyes to the floor, lightly slapping his cheek – still itchy, he noticed with a grimace. 

"Of course," he mumbled, voice slurred as he got up. His heavy muscles complained, yet Hubert promptly ignored them, looking for his clothes.

Earlier that night, he had prepared himself to sleep alongside her. Bringing his own nightclothes with him, Hubert failed to actually sleep, pacing until their son demanded his attention. She needed to rest much more than he did and his presence would just disturb her. So, right there, he would leave her be. It was just right. That's how it was supposed to be, to begin with.

Dragging his steps, his eyes found his cloak first, the red bright even in the dark of the night. Without much thought, he picked it up, ready to slip back in his clothes and spend the night in his own quarters. The thought stung, but Hubert merely shook his head. That was how it was supposed to be.

"What are you doing?"

Her words cut through the haze of his dazed mind. As he slowly turned his head to her, part of him already knew what to expect. Still, it didn't hurt any less when she faced him. Mouth in a tense line. Neck craning up to look him in the eyes. Austere expression as if she was attending a funeral.

"I planned on letting you sleep, Edelgard."

The lack of the title burned his mouth. The façade of neutrality cracked as her eyebrow twitched.

"By going back to your room?"

Hubert had to hold back the instinct of bowing down. It wasn't the time nor the place for it. He was there as her companion.  _ Why do I need to leave, then? _ The thought got stuck in his head, his instincts telling him that something wasn't right. Yet he merely nodded in response, barely making sense of his own words.

"Yes," he muttered. "You had a long day. You must be feeling tired. So I will take my leave, it's only natural."

It must have sounded even worse to Edelgard. She stood still, hands still in the cradle where their son laid. Asleep? Probably. Newborns slept day and night or so he had heard. 

Her face seemed sculpted from stone, like a goddess of the old legends, readying herself to lash out her wrath. Hubert's lips curled up in a smirk. She looked gorgeous, a vague thought passed by his brain. His reaction must have been terrible in her eyes since she blinked slowly in disbelief.

"What?" 

He ran his fingers through his hair, pulling his bangs back. Yes, of course. She was still annoyed with him, certainly.

"I believe you would sleep better without me."

Edelgard's expression twitched. She pressed her lips together, casting her eyes to the cradle then back to him. He could see that she was biting the inside of her cheeks. Holding back her anger? Perhaps biting back a weak rebuttal. Or just to dismiss him?

Thoughts swirled in his mind, leading nowhere.

"What makes you think so?"

While he considered himself the one who knew her the most, Hubert couldn't understand what she meant. Perhaps the lack of sleep was truly getting to him. He squinted his eyes, treading dangerous waters.

He shook his head, taking a step back.

"I just meant–"

She grabbed his wrist. Not with too much strength, he knew it, but enough to stop him in his tracks. His eyes went from her hand to her eyes again. They stared back at each other for a few seconds, his stomach tingling with unease.

"Come here," she asked him and, once again, Hubert could never deny her.

Putting his clothes aside once more, he followed her lead as Edelgard pulled him closer. Much closer. She hooked her arms around his waist, letting her hands wander across the bumps of his spine. His breath hitched in surprise, not expecting her to rest her cheek against his bare chest. 

His arms hovered around her, uselessly failing to embrace her fully or to stay on his side. Stuck in limbo, an odd metaphor for his own behavior. The thought swirled in his mind and, in a streak of timid rebellion, Hubert gave in. Settling one of his hands on her waist and other on the back of her neck, his jaw tensed. Second thoughts crept up his back, but it ended up quickly stifled as she placed a chaste kiss on his collarbone. He coughed a pale husk of a chuckle, knowing that there wasn't hope for him since the start. As soon as she asked for his presence, he was done for.

Hubert leaned down slightly, inhaling the scent of her hair before placing a kiss on her temple. If any thoughts had even tried to emerge and torment him, the sigh against his chest ended it. Seconds passed. Neither moved. 

She inhaled and he felt it, sighing as well. Part of him just wanted to collapse right there in her arms, break apart and let go of the Empire and House Vestra, Ministers and lineages. Take a torch in his hand, set it all aflame and bask in Edelgard's warmth. Just the three of them. 

The thought was almost sinful to him. It was terribly irresponsible of him to have such ideas, even if in a feverish moment of exhaustion. Not like that stopped his fantasies. He grimaced, aware of his own selfishness. To have her for himself?

Ha.

A pitiful thought.

"Hubert," she muttered against his chest, pulling him even closer as if trying to crawl inside his skin.

"Yes?"

"Look at our son."

_ Our son _ .

Obeying, Hubert raised his head slowly, eyes darting back to the cradle. A baby boy, blissfully asleep. A patch of brown hair on the top of his head. 

Perhaps it was the exhaustion, forcing him to focus on the detail of the boy's hair color. Maybe it was the meaning it carried and the fear that had loomed over their heads for nearly nine months. Hubert took a deep breath, hands tightening on her waist out of reflex. Then, he exhaled, forcing himself to relax his tense muscles. 

"He has brown hair," he mumbled, a mundane observation to anyone else, but that carried so much more meaning to the two of them. 

The hand on her neck carded on her hair – white hair, the color that they dreaded like the plague for nine months. The symbol of the reason for their "what-ifs" and "what-abouts". Spine stiffer than a lance, Edelgard answered him with the same gravity.

"Yes. He does."

Whatever was left of his thoughts melted to a puddle as he pulled her closer, pressing their bodies together as if to just remember himself that _he was there and she was there_ _and their baby was there too_. Their small, little family. The forbidden thought wormed its way to his mind as Hubert bit his bottom lip.

"I'm still sore, you know," she mumbled, voice stifled in his chest.

"Apologies," he mumbled, letting go of her. 

But she didn't fully let go of him, shifting to press her forehead against his sternum. Her hands settled on his waist, fingers holding him in place as she let out a shuddering breath.

His thoughts ebbed and flowed, like waves of hesitation that left him in limbo, unable to either pull closer or move away. Instead, his eyes shifted back to his son. His son. The acknowledgment hammered in his head over and over again, as Hubert was unable to make sense of it. He'd had time to recognize that he was going to be a father, but to think about it and to see his son sleeping peacefully were two different things.

He wondered if, close as she was, Edelgard could hear his heart beating fast in his chest, almost bursting out of his ribcage. For long, he had thought of his heart as a withered, dry thing, not unlike a raisin. Wrinkly and just as black. Inside of it, there was only space for Edelgard. Even then, it was a bit of a snug fit. Or so he had thought.

Perhaps that was why his heart insisted on beating so fast, not used to the strain of finding space for one more person in his life. Perhaps that was why he always felt like his heart was about to burst whenever the three of them were together.

Edelgard exhaled one last time, drawing his attention back to her as she raised her head, taking two steps back. 

"I heard you talking before," she said, voice low. "Before the baby cried, I mean."

_ Oh. _

The heat of mortification settled in his limbs – mainly in his legs. Tensing the muscles of his thighs, Hubert couldn't help but want to flee, to hide. The heat also seemed to spread across his neck and collarbone, as Edelgard huffed dryly, her eyes drawn back to his chest.

"Who would've guessed that you would be blushing like this?" She asked, but quickly answered her own question. "Certainly not me. Even if it looks good on you."

The quick playful quip drew out a laugh of Hubert, despite the embarrassment creeping up his spine.

"So you heard everything, I can presume." He shook his head, attempting to collect his thoughts. "Allow me to guess. You were awake the whole time and I didn't even notice."

"Indeed."

Silence reigned again. More often than not, quietness between them was like a comfortable, warm blanket. Wrapping the two in intimate shared solitude. This time, however, the silence grew to an awkward length. Hubert shifted on his weight, averting his eyes to the ground.

Unable to deal with the implications of her admission, all that was left to him was his own thoughts and speculations. What did she think of it? Was it strange for her to hear him like that? 

Unguarded and hurt, confessing small fears to a newborn baby. Talking about his own father, about her, about his family. Considering he was someone who had to be a protector first and foremost, such a sight must have been a surprise to her.

_ Why would it be a surprise for her? _

The questions haunted his mind as he grimaced. And more questions lodged his throat, temping him to ask her more. Before he could muster the boldness to ask, her finger curled under his chin, pulling his face back to her.

"It was endearing, you know," she whispered, eyes gleaming. 

His breath hitched, time slowing down as he tried to understand the flash of emotion behind her eyes. When he failed, Hubert resorted to words.

"You think so?"

Her laughter in response was soft as a bell, a rare moment of calmness that soothed his restless mind.

"Yes. It was."

Another wave of selfishness came crashing down on him. The cold logicalness that had kept a tight leash on his emotions had all but disappeared as he took a step closer. Then another. One more until their bodies were almost touching. Not quite touching still, but close enough to show his intentions.

He leaned down a fraction, parting his lips slightly. Stating his intentions. Nothing more than an offering. She took it gladly, closing the distance between them, slipping her fingers in the hair behind his ear. It started off slow, calculated. Lips pressed against lips in an almost chaste gesture.

Soon the softness was rendered not enough and Edelgard's hand gripped his shoulder, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. Hubert answered accordingly, settling his hands on her waist and allowing her to take what was always hers.

Always attentive to his most subtle details, Edelgard knew her cue. Her grip on his hair tightened and Hubert groaned in response, leaning back for a moment to breathe in. Ever the predator, she chased him, placing quick, featherlike kisses on his lips. Her hand shifted from his shoulder to his cheek, tracing his cheekbone with her thumb. 

When she finally pulled back, Hubert opened his eyes. Edelgard was staring back at him, her violet eyes bordering a purple tone in the darkness. An unfocused smile on her lips made her look like a satisfied cat, almost purring. As if hearing his thoughts, she hummed an approval, caressing his cheek.

"It looks nice on you."

Hubert took a moment to acknowledge that she was talking about his beard. He sneered but didn't pull back from her touch.

"It itches," he whined and her smile widened as she swiped the bangs off his eyes.

"I presume it really does. Still, it is a change of pace."

"As if we need any more 'changes of pace'," he muttered in response, his thumbs caressing small circles on her waist. 

She took a deep breath as if savoring the moment. Hubert took the opportunity to do the same, closing his eyes as she continued to stroke his skin. It was a soothing touch, the kind of intimacy he had never allowed himself to have. Not that it surprised him anymore.

When they kissed – that time and all the times before – the world seemed to shift around them. Whatever blurred barriers between them ceased to exist and the labels they had for themselves burned down to ashes. It wasn't something that Hubert had ever been able to replicate outside of those particular moments of intimacy. Beyond the door of their respective quarters, Hubert was the Minister of the Imperial Household and she was the Emperor of Adrestia, Ruler of Fódlan. The servile noble whose duty and obedience was for the Emperor and the Emperor alone.

Still, when said Emperor was a beautiful woman who allowed him to say with his body all the things he couldn't say with words, it was hard to walk this fine line. Once all the labels were put aside, they were just two human beings with needs and emotions. And now they were a small family, not only two but three. 

Such dangerous thoughts. 

Her hands continued to caress him, a featherlike touch that might as well have been a siren's call to him. He sighed, his knees weakening as sleep deprivation took a toll on him, and the words flowed out of his mouth before he could control them.

"You are truly marvelous, Edelgard."

Her hand stilled and Hubert opened his eyes. Had he crossed an unspoken line? Just as he expected, Edelgard's lips were pressed together in a slight grimace.

"You really enjoy flattering me, don't you?" The sharpness of her bitter tone didn't pass by him.

The phrase was a double-edged sword, revealing how hurt she was and hurting him at the same time. His eyes widened.  _ How could she– _

Exhaustion seeped his bones and poisoned his mind so whatever was left of his eloquence evaporated as if it was never there. His lips trembled. His whole body quivered. He struggled to exhale slowly as if fighting a trapped animal inside of him. In the end, he lost.

" _ Are you laughing?" _

Hubert laughed like a child, one hand muffling his mouth in a poor attempt of quieting himself down. 

"I apologize," he said, breathless and straining to contain himself. "It is just that the proposition that what I say is empty flattery is impossible for me, Edelgard."

Once he finally regained some control over his composure, he placed a kiss on her forehead. At the same time, he hooked his arms around her chest, pulling her into a hug. 

"When I say that you are truly a stunning woman in every aspect I can think of, I mean it," he whispered, embracing her closer while leaning down to rest his chin on her shoulder. "What truly baffles me is how  _ you  _ would want to stay with me–"

"Quiet."

She tensed under him, her voice taking a biting lilt. Not quite the commanding tone she used with her troops. More fiery. More personal. Hubert stilled as well, but before he could pull away, Edelgard held him closer, placing her chin on his shoulder. He couldn't see her face, but the tenseness of her jaw told him enough.

"Do not put me on a pedestal at the cost of putting yourself down, Hubert," she hissed, the edge on her voice sharper than any ax. It lasted only one moment, however. "It – It means a lot to me that you think so fondly of me."

She halted for a moment, in what Hubert could only assume to be a pause to gather her wits. 

"I'm used to needless praise. So it can be difficult for me to separate what is flattery and what is true."

"You deserve all the praise you get."

He placed a chaste kiss on her shoulder as if to prove his point. Edelgard, in contrast, let out a dry laugh.

"In your eyes, I deserve all there is in the world."

Hubert gulped hard, trying to skim over the four-letter word too big for its own good. Indirectly telling her during the war had been enough of a struggle. Back then, he'd jokingly thought that gladly offering his neck to the executioner was a more reasonable option, even if for a fleeting, harmless moment. Right there, despite everything they undertook together, Hubert found that it was still hard to say it aloud.

"I very much admire you," he whispered, finding a reasonable compromise.

"Yet you put yourself down at every opportunity despite having been the person I chose to spend my life with."

Her voice was grave, final like a judge reading a sentence. He froze. Hubert swore he could hear the furious beating of his heart. Could she hear it too? If so, how would she interpret it? Any attempts of gathering his wits resulted in him tripping over the ever-growing mountain of questions.

Questions, questions, and questions. No answers, however.

Perhaps sensing his doubt, Edelgard took a step back and raised an eyebrow, her eyes darting from him to the cradle and back to him.

"I assumed that much was obvious to you," she whispered, a phrase that he recognized all too well. His eyes darted to the cradle, where  _ their _ child still slept on peacefully, unaware of the world beyond the warmth of his parents.

"It is," he blurted out swiftly, taking one of her hands between both of his. A small, calloused hand from handling axes and swords and bows and whatever there was at hand that would carve the path on the battlefield. 

"And yet you downplay yourself, therefore downplaying my decision as well."

The façade of neutrality rose once again and Hubert had no answer for it. Words failed him, the maelstrom of emotions assaulting him and stealing the air of his lungs. His mouth opened and closed but nothing came out.

Edelgard smiled, but the humor didn't reach her eyes. Taking a step closer and slipping her arms under his, she craned her neck up, demanding his full attention as she looked him in the eyes.

"I chose you, Hubert," she directly said it, clumsy but he was just as clumsy if not worse, so it was like a blessing to him.

A beat passed. Lacking the words to properly respond to her, Hubert did all that he could do. 

"Thank you, Edelgard," he whispered, voice cracking as he lifted her off the ground. The years of constant training had been worth it if just for her gasp of surprise as she hooked her legs around his waist. Hubert leaned back to look at her, still safely holding her close in his arms.

"What was this for?" She asked, arching an eyebrow.

He smirked, tilting his head to the side. Her hands hesitated for a moment before holding on to his shoulders. Hubert couldn't recall the last time he had done it, but it still felt reinvigorating to have her in his arms. 

"I just wanted to," he answered slowly, the words playing on his lips. Another fit of laughter bubbled on his throat, but all that got out was a dry husk of a chuckle as he rested his forehead on her shoulder.

She was perfect. There was just no way he could think any less of her. And, if she had deemed him worthy of spending her life with him, who he was to deny her? He couldn't even dream of it.

He nuzzled on her neck, peppering featherlike kisses on her jaw. Her eyes widened, but only for a moment before she relented and sighed, cradling the back of his head.

"Very well. I suppose it is more than adequate that we go back to bed."

Her hand stilled on his neck, the unspoken question hanging in the air. There was only one answer to it.

"Of course."

Her muscles relaxed under his touch as he pulled back and a smile graced her lips. Hubert smiled back, not his usual sinister smirk, but a genuine smile. As she allowed him to carry her back, Hubert couldn't help but notice the tiredness in her body. Tense muscles, probably still sore. A twinge of guilt panged on his chest, but he maintained his silence. 

Instead, he laid her down on the bed, granting him a sigh from her. Without much thought, she tucked her in and joined her, sliding beside her. Laying on his back, his tense muscles seemed to unwind all at once in relief, tired of carrying on for hours to no end. Hubert sighed but it was cut short by a gasp as Edelgard slid closer to him.

Resting her head on his shoulder, she wordlessly curled around him, placing a hand on his chest. Her fingers mindlessly traced circles on his skin, stroking his collarbone. An intimate touch, indeed. Answering in kind, Hubert hooked an arm around her shoulders, letting her settle against his side. Warm and gentle, Edelgard sighed as well and he could feel her muscles unwound a notch under his fingertips. 

The exhaustion seeping his bones seemed to be shared by her, her body heavy against him as she leaned fully on him. His fingers tentatively caressed her shoulder. Leaning in, he placed a kiss on the top of her head. Her eyes followed him, widening but just for a moment before she relaxed once again, lips curling up slightly.

"Goodnight."

His eyes widened but only for a moment as he let out a laugh, almost not believing in the sight before him. He shifted his arms, settling her closer as he spared one last glance to the cradle in the corner.

"Goodnight."

Their small little family. He could get used to it. 

**Author's Note:**

> The title was based in a song named "vc já viveu um amor impossível" by lítera.  
> Also, I normally wouldn't see these two having children but sometimes you just gotta write babies and dadbert and feelings.  
> Kudos/Comments/Feedback are always appreciated!!!


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